


My Throat, Your Knives

by Leidolette



Category: Campaign (Podcast)
Genre: Death Wish, F/M, Force Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 04:24:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10586370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leidolette/pseuds/Leidolette
Summary: Tryst bothers Aava at work.





	

It wasn't a good time. Tryst knew that. And that just made his steps double time as he followed Aava around the corner to one of the cargo bays of the imperial cruiser he was currently (and mostly accidentally) infiltrating. Nobody looked twice at him, just another grey-uniformed officer on a ship that held thousands of them. 

"Rough day at the office?" Tryst asked conversationally as he stepped into a smaller side hold behind Ava. The room's shelves were completely stacked with spare duct work from top to bottom. The lights were only at half-power, a cost saving measure for a fleet that was churning out ships at a break-neck speed. When the automatic door closed behind him, the room was even dimmer, more intimate. _Nice,_ Tryst thought, as if he had planned it that way.

"I'm too busy to humor you right now." Her back was turned to him, and ice rolled off her in waves.

"Well, that good, because it's not laughs I'm in the mood for right now," Tryst said, trying to turn on the charm.

But Aava obviously wasn't in the laughing mood either. It was the sort of line that Aava might have smoothly tolerated during their other encounters, but it now it just seemed to piss her off. She whirled around, and he could see that she was angry. Very much so.

For all her talk about about passion, Tryst had rarely seen Aava lose her cool. It was strange to see her on edge this way. And terribly exciting too, of course.

Tryst told her as much. She didn't like that either.

"All I have to do," she growled right into his face, "is throw your cold, stiff body at the feet of the nearest Moff and my career troubles will be over for at least a half cycle."

Tryst raised his eyebrows. "I don't think I'd get half as stiff lying at the feet of some Moff as I do at yours."

Aava's fingernails dug into Tryst's arms and the Force clamped over his mouth like a metal hand, cutting of his words and most of his breath. All the hair on the back of his neck stood up as the Force pressed down around him. Not hard enough to injure or entirely suffocate -- but enough to remind him that she could do either of those things if she wished. The heels of Tryst's boots scraped across the floor as Aava willed him closer. 

She just might do it this time, he realized.

She just might kill him. 

The idea didn't scare him. Or, at least not really. It might terrify some distant, rational part of himself that seemed to slide further and further away every day, but it might as well have been the squeaks of a frightened mouse for all the attention Tryst paid to that part of himself. 

All he could hear was his heart beating louder and louder, and the pressure under his skin getting stronger and stronger. Cold flooded his belly as his body automatically dumped a load of adrenaline into his system in preparation for a flight-or-fight response. He could try to fight her. Hey, maybe he could get in a lucky blaster shot if he timed it right, or struggle out of her supernatural grasp if he tried hard enough.

But Tryst did neither. Just let himself be pulled forward with dilating pupils as he waited for whatever would happen next. 

The pull didn't lessen until he was close enough to Aava to feel the heat from her body, face-to-face and almost touching. The merciless gaze that had been the last thing dozens of people had seen before they died was turned on him. In response, Tryst winked at her, the action as stupid as it was reflexive.

Then, Aava smiled. It wasn't friendly.

* * *

A half hour later, Tryst stumbled out of the cargo hold, freshly kriffed, bruised, and still very much alive. 

_Well, alive for now,_ he thought to himself. He shrugged, then put the barest amount of effort into fixing his uniform to align with something resembling military regulation. He thought about trying to hide the stark, slightly parted lip print Aava's lipstick had left on his shirt, right over the nipple. But the mark matched the glossy black of his boots exactly, and was super hot besides, so Tryst let it be. 

Then it was time to find Bacta and Leenik, and get on with the endless business of living another day.

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel: She does kill him.


End file.
